


two journalists and an overcooked pot of pasta

by ElasticElla



Series: tumblr drabbles and fics [63]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hits Linda one night, when they’re making dinner together to de-stress- which has more or less become a ritual ever since her evil clone came into this world.</p>
<p>“We’ve both made out with a superhero.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	two journalists and an overcooked pot of pasta

**Author's Note:**

> first posted [here](http://elasticella.tumblr.com/post/133162754885/for-the-parkwest-anon-o-it-hits-linda-one-night)

It hits Linda one night, when they’re making dinner together to de-stress- which has more or less become a ritual ever since her evil clone came into this world. Evil clones really make for a ridiculously unacceptable amount of stress.

“We’ve both made out with a superhero,” Linda says.

Iris raises an eyebrow, “What- I have not-”

“Eighth grade test kisses totally count.”

Iris laughs, pulling out the pumpkin pie. “Fine, we’ve both  _kissed_  a superhero. Or soon to be hero, I guess.”

Iris refills their wine glasses, and wow, they’ve both gotten way better at this whole drunk cooking thing. The chicken parm is almost done, and nothing smells burnt and neither of them have accidentally messed anything up yet. College her would be  _so_ proud.

“Yup, now we just need to make out with a supervillain and our whacky bingo cards will be complete.”

Iris represses a shiver, “Too bad they’re all skeezy. And ugly.”

“Excuse me?” Linda says, hand on her hip while she stirs the pasta. “Sounds like someone doesn’t want dinner.”

“Not your clone!” Iris hastily says, “I mean she’s still morally gray and probably skeezy, but totally in a hot way.”

“Uh huh,” Linda says flatly, but there’s an easy smile on her face. “How’d the pie come out?”

Iris dips two fingers in the cooling pie, swooping up some of the filling. Linda grabs her wrist, and Iris is expecting a reprimand- already has a rebuttal in mind with the apple crumble Linda had made last week- and then her mind goes completely blank. There’s a hot, wet heat around her fingers, and Linda’s pretty pink mouth sucks every last bit off.

“How is it?” Iris barely remembers to ask, her fingers damp and cold now that Linda’s focused on the pasta again. There’s some smudged pink lipstick on her fingers, and if she thinks too hard about how it got there she’ll probably do something she can’t take back.

“Delicious,” Linda finally says, and Iris swallows, remembering the pie belatedly. “This recipe is the one for the office holiday party.”

There’s a pause, and Iris can’t stop rubbing her thumb against her damp fingers and the sticky smear of lipstick. It’s too late, and her filter is gone.

“So, you’ve basically been a supervillain. I mean, you  _were_  really convincing as Dr. Light.”

“Uh huh,” Linda says again, but it’s more encouraging this time, and her eyes aren’t on the food anymore.

“So kissing you would pretty much be like kissing a previous supervillain. Does that count for bingo?”

Linda drops the spatula, and steps closer, close enough that Iris can feel her body heat, knows they’ll collide with just the slightest lean. Iris isn’t sure when she walked around the counter, but she’s here now, holding her breath and waiting.

“Yes,” Linda says, and one of them, or both of them maybe, lean in, and they’re kissing. Linda tastes like wine and pumpkin pie, and Iris doesn’t know why she didn’t think to pair them together sooner.

(The pasta turns out more than a little overcooked and floppy, but neither of them mind.)


End file.
